The Girl Who Survived
by Rebeccab012
Summary: She loved and she lost. She lived so that he could live and she battled to keep him alive. (Re-written from a story I wrote a long time ago. Hope you enjoy it!)


_She was in fact, a somebody. Whether he liked it or not she was a person and a very important person at that. She was the one who would save his life, keep him on the path_ to_ fulfilling his destiny and restore peace and order to the world. She sat alone in the room, four grey walls looking back at her, bars on the windows blocking out the light so that only a small slither shone onto her pale face. Her body was limp and lifeless, her arms covered in burns and cuts as if a knife had been passed over them a hundred times. Some were old, some were new. Her breathing was labored and she knew that unless she could persuade him otherwise, she would never leave here. Suddenly, the door slammed open and he stood facing her. 'Come' he commanded._

Harry bounded down the stairs and towards the Great Hall. He was late for the Sorting Ceremony. It was the beginning of term and after the difficulty of getting to Hogwarts due to the frustrating lack of interest from his Aunt and Uncle, it had taken Ron, Fred and George to put a sleeping curse on the Dursley's for Harry to be able to sneak out. His black robes embroidered with the Gryffindor logo swished behind him as he skided through the Great Hall;'s closing doors (narrowly avoiding the disapproving gaze of Finch) and slotted in to the seat next to Hermione and Ron – who was happily finishing his extra portion of dinner they had served prior to the ceremony starting. The usual lineup of teachers stood behind Dumbledore as he made his speech, welcoming the young new Hogwarts students, yet there was one face Harry had not seen before. She was stood shyly next to Hagrid, a tall slim young woman with long brown hair down to her waist, neatly tied in a plait with a black ribbon around the bottom. She wore a floor length black dress and robe with sliver stars and moons decorating the cuffs of her sleeves. Much like Professor McGonagall, she wore a black pointed hat made of the finest velvet except, hers covered her face so that Harry could see very little of her. Who was this mysterious new woman?

Cheers filled the room when students were sorted into their houses – nervous young Gryffindor's sighed with relief when they weren't sorted into Slytherin and yet, her face never changed emotion. She didn't clap and she didn't speak.

'Who do you think she is?' Harry whispered to Hermione. She looked inquisitively over the staff table and stared at her for a moment or two. 'I don't know' she replied 'But whoever she is, she doesn't look very happy to be here'. Harry agreed, and wondered if he would soon find out who she was.

_'Please, I don't want to. You can't make me go!' She begged, pleading with her Father. 'I love him. Send someone else, send Severus. Hasn't he always been into this sort of thing? I can't go. I won't go!'. The grey haired man walked down the steps in the office towards her, tears streaming down her face. 'You must. There is no other way. He needs to be protected until he can fully understand what his destiny is and until that time we need someone on the other side. You have the training, you have the skills. Use them. Why else would I have taught you them?'. He grabbed her by the arm and as she struggled against him, he pointed his wand at her body and with the whisper of a spell, she disappeared. The old man closed his eyes tightly, a single tear running down his cheek. Although there was no other way it could be done, he never wanted to harm her. He loved her far too much, but she was his last resort._

With a flick of her wand the blinds in the classroom rolled down and the projector flicked on. A short film entitled '_The History of Dark Magic' _began to play and with a second flick, the film paused in a suitable place. The desks and chairs were neatly arranged and the room was ready for the students. Teaching Defence Against The Dark Arts was the last thing she had planned to be doing with her time, but anything was better than where she had come from. Suddenly, the door burst open and the students entered, chatting, giggling - some practising their enchantment spells on a piece of paper, turning it into an array of oragami shapes and creatures.

'Settle down please,' she said one hand leaning on the teachers desk beside her. Ripples of whispers filled the room as the students questioned who she was - though a new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher should have been nothing new to them. They sat down at their desks quietly.  
'I am Professor Wells and I am going to be your new teacher this year.' She spoke softly with a hint of sadness in her voice. Harry studied her face carefully. There was something so familiar about her.

As the lesson progressed, she tried to avoid eye contact with Harry. It was too painful to be reminded of the past. At the end of the lesson, as the students filed out of the room talking about what they had learned today, Harry was drawn to ask her a question. He couldn't leave the room without talking to her.

'Professor?' Harry asked, walking towards her inquisitively. Noticing his forthcomings, she quickly picked up the remaining text books from her desk and with a flick of her robes, she apparated out of the room.


End file.
